


You Never Listen!

by lost_spook



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor won't let Peri get a word in edgeways...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Never Listen!

**Author's Note:**

> For Pitry, who said I would never write Shouty!Six fic (in an LJ meme), as if that was all there was to him. This is true, but when you come down to it, Six shouty!fic is a lot of fun.

“Are you listening to me, Peri?”

“Doctor, I’ve been listening to you yell at me for the past -”

“Yell? _Yell?!_ YELL?”

“Yeah.” She pouted.

He said, “If I had been raising my voice, you could at least use decent English and describe it as ‘shouting’, or possibly even ‘bellowing’ or ‘hollering’.”

“But, Doctor -”

“Peri, let me finish. Now, as I was saying, we may be here some time, so I propose-”

“ _Doctor!_ ”

“A fact which, may I remind you, is entirely your fault. I warned you about clomping about in silly high heels and speaking to strange mushrooms -”

“You never said a thing about -”

“And, now here we are, imprisoned with no hope, no chance, no mere whisper of an escape and shall be ending our days here in this miserable cell.”

“Unless you get outta my way and open the door!”

He paused. “I’m sorry. WHAT did you say?”

“Someone unlocked the door about two hours ago, in the middle of your recitations from _Hamlet_. I did try to tell you, but you just shushed me and you haven’t paid any attention since – too busy yelling at me. And for the record, Doctor, you never said anything about talking mushrooms. I’m a botanist and you expect me not to say hi when a five foot fungus starts chatting about the weather?”

He coughed. “I may have been, possibly, mildly annoyed over the circumstances of our incarceration, but I resent the -”

“So, can we go?”

“Yes,” he said. His voice cracked a little. He coughed again. “Peri, this is terrible! I must have picked up some fatal infection in these unhygienic cells! We must get out at once – I seem to be losing my voice.”

She rolled her eyes, as she tugged the door open. “Really. Gee, Doctor, I can hardly believe it.”

*

Once they were back in the TARDIS, he wrapped a scarf round his throat and settled in the chair with a drink of honey and lemon and the classic amateur dramatic’s at-death’s-door-pose.

“Not got your voice back, huh?” said Peri, folding her arms and watching.

He shook his head. “Keep back, Peri,” he said in a weak whisper. “Could be Aracanian teramuflaffic flu – fatal in every case. Don’t come any nearer – save yourself! After all, if you get sick, who’ll look after _Me_?”

“Thanks, Doctor,” she said, leaning against the console. “I’ll take my chances. I think it’s about time you listened to me for a change.”

He looked at her determined expression and swallowed. “Very, _very_ sick,” he croaked, sinking down in the chair and closing his eyes.

“You don’t fool me for a minute,” she said. “We’ll start with your cooking and your dress sense and move onto the fact that you never, ever take me to the mall. You’d think there must be one somewhere in the cosmos – maybe even a whole planet of shops or something – but do you ever -?”

“Dying,” he murmured, a tear trickling out of one eye. “But don’t worry, Peri – the TARDIS will take you safely home.”

“And you couldn’t even get me to Blackpool!”

“Dead,” he finished with a dramatic, choking gasp.

“Doctor, corpses _don’t talk_.”


End file.
